


stress

by whereshiphappens (xiiis16)



Series: am i making you [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Talk, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Manhandling, Theo is in Deverford Prep, and plays lacross for their team, it's a house party guys so you know, some light praise kink, stiles finds out hes into some kinky shit, underage drinking i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiiis16/pseuds/whereshiphappens
Summary: “Stiles,” Theo calls softly, and Stiles almost holds his breath. He doesn’t turn around, though, just stands there and waits. “I missed you,” Theo repeats, in such a soft silky voice Stiles has trouble connecting it to that confident, smirking,beautifulfucking face of his. He closes his eyes, scrunches up his face in an expression that showcases exactly the frustration going on inside. Because despite the softness he can still hear the teasing undertone. He has no idea how he does it, but Theo knows exactly what he’s doing and Stiles should fucking know better but.It’s working. It’s bringing back memories and it’s making Stiles want it again. Fuck, he wants it so much it’s an actual physical pain in this stomach. He exhales audibly, closes his hand in a fist, “Oh, fuck you,” he whispers in a defeated tone, “fuck youso much.”





	stress

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooo my beautiful people
> 
> so. turns out i got slapped in the face by inspiration and actually wrote a sequel can you fucking believe this, a sequel! who am i.  
> i sincerely hope you like this - it was a hell of a lot fun to write, ngl
> 
> as always, unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.  
> enjoy the trash my beautiful angels, tell me your thoughts; all of them, scream at me, i wanna know it all  
> <3

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles is already squinting suspiciously in their direction when Mason brings a fidgeting Liam up to their table, during lunch. For a terrible,  _ terrible _ second Stiles is sure both of them figured out something they really could not have figured out under  _ any  _ circumstances and came over to ask Stiles directly. About the Devenford Prep shirt. About the other night. 

It has been weeks, and ever since he has been wary of Liam; if he figured something out, if he told Mason anything. Either he didn’t, or Mason was just keeping quiet and minding his own business. It had been too long, Stiles knows, he’s probably being paranoid, but still. He has no idea how Liam didn’t pick up the… well  _ scent _ . But he figures Liam was distracted and they were out in the open maybe it wasn’t obvious. He hopes. It’s not like he knows how that whole business works exactly.

As the two boys approach the table, Scott greets them and invites them to sit, and Lydia scooches over a little to make space, but Mason says it’s okay, they’re just leaving for class in a bit, anyway. They stay in silence, just standing, Lydia raises her eyebrow at them and it’s Malia in her sort of abrasive way that asks “do you need something?”

Stiles is staring, he knows he’s staring and he knows his face is probably showing something very weird now, with the way Kira sort of touches his arm to bring him out of whatever intense staring is going on, question mark all over her expression. Mason elbows Liam to egg him on, and Stiles just hopes every supernatural creature at the table is too curious to notice the way his heart kind of speeds up at that.

“So, I got a funny invite,” Liam starts, fidgeting with his fingers and pulling a pained odd little smile that has everyone furrowing their brows at him. Stiles doesn’t know if he’s off the hook yet or not.

“... You got a funny invite?” Kira speaks when Liam doesn’t carry on, like maybe she’s missing something here. Pursing his lips Liam nods a few times fast.

“Yeah.” He confirms, shutting up once again. Malia is the first to turn to the rest of the table, confusion all over her face. Scott shakes his head, “Okay, uhh…” he starts, “care to elaborate?”

Liam lets out a little nervous laugh, “right, yeah, I, uh-” rolling his eyes beside Liam, Mason cuts him off. “Brett from Devenford invited your team for a sort of after game party on Friday,” Mason quickly explains, and suddenly Stiles is frowning for a whole other reason.  _ What _ ? Where had that come from? 

“He said ‘tell your captain and bring everyone’ and also something about fair play and cooling off the whole rivalry thing,” Liam pipes up. Scott’s face lights up. Immediately Stiles feels dread creeping up his spine.  _ Oh no, oh no, no, no.  _ He knows that face, he knows exactly what’s going to come out of Scott’s mou-

“That’s a great idea, actually!” Scott says smiling widely.  _ Shit.  _ “I’ll let the guys know, tell Brett we’re going.”

Stiles’ eyes go from Scott to Liam frantically and he starts shaking his head as his best friend speaks, interrupting saying “no, no,” making Scott turn back to face him. Scott has a questioning look on his face and Stiles is frantically searching for an excuse to not set foot on that party that doesn’t seem too ridiculous. His eyes stop on Lydia who’s also looking at him funny, with a frown, and he remembers.

“We had that thing on Friday,” he tells Scott - it’s not even a lie, and it’s quite satisfactory to know for once he’s got a solid excuse to not go to the thing he doesn’t want to go, “with the girls. Movies.” he says matter-of-factly nodding at the girls around the table as if asking for everyone to confirm what he’s saying is the truth.

Lydia squints just slightly at him, like she’s suspecting something else is going on. Of course she would. “It’s okay, we’ll make it a girls’ night,” she says with a little smile directed at Stiles that is charged with something else. Oh, she’s suspecting something alright. Stiles is fucked.

“Girls’ night!” Kira suddenly whisper-gasps eyes wide with excitement “I’m joining girls’ night, sorry Scott,” she says, not looking very apologetic and Malia nods with a smile back at her, holding up her hand to high five Lydia and Kira.

_ Well _ , Stiles thinks.  _ This isn’t good.  _ Or fair really, he couldn’t join a girl’s night. Nor does he want to, Jesus Christ, Lydia could probably drill every single piece of dirt out of Stiles if she set her mind to it, and with the way she was looking at him, that was a very likely possibility. So yeah, no. But going to that so called party isn’t any more appealing. 

Because he knows damn well who will be there. And he knows damn well that being around that absolutely shameless asshole near Scott and the whole team is very bad idea. 

 

 

There’s a paranoid side to him that tells him that this whole party idea is very weirdly timed. Their game with Devenford Prep had been weeks ago (three, to be more specific) and nothing too serious - except for the occasion jab between teams online - had happened either that required a gathering complete with singing kumbaya or whatever the fuck. 

Theo had added him in any and every social media he could find, and Stiles did accept, he’s still not sure if it was to keep an eye on him and see what he’s being saying online about what happened - yes, Stiles’ self-confidence is as damaged as to suspect the whole thing was a huge joke and Theo was about to publish a dark picture of him in his shirt and show him off as a fucking punchline; he’s not sure if it was because of that, or… okay, or maybe Stiles wanted to see what he was up to like, in general. 

Perhaps his stomach still did that flip thing whenever Theo posted a ridiculous photo of himself looking unfairly gorgeous and Stiles flushed with those “I kissed all of that” thoughts racing through his mind. 

But mostly he pipped that down. They didn’t even talk or anything. He still wasn’t sure Liam hadn’t figured anything out (although, honestly, it seemed less and less likely) and Stiles wanted to stay away from trouble. 

And Theo was trouble alright.

So that paranoid part of his mind keeps telling him this isn’t a coincidence, but some sort of plan to get him in the same place as Theo. Stiles kept trying to find excuses to not go all week and Scott kept giving him that kicked puppy look that made Stiles almost reconsider.

“Why don’t you wanna go?” Scott just asks him by the time Friday morning rolls around and Stiles is ready to shoot himself in the foot to not go. Stiles sighs, lips pursed and a hand on the locker next to Scott’s closing into a fist, knocking on the metal a couple times before Scott closes his own and starts walking with Stiles following suit.

“I just don’t. Why do I have to?” Stiles finally gives up. Scott is walking slowly and turns to face him. He breathes in.

“I really want to believe things will go just fine,” Scott starts, “but I also remember what happened last time Liam and Brett were face to face out of the field, and you can talk your way out of anything, so, I guess I’d like you to be there to… moderate,” Scott explains, clearly happy with himself for how articulated that sounded. Stiles wants to smack him, just a little.

“You want me to babysit.” Stiles deadpans.

“It’s just that Brett seems to like you-” Scott comments and Stiles is already talking, disregarding that to tell him that, “You’re the team captain!  _ You _ are supposed to take take of those idiots!”

They’re reaching their classroom and Scott stops with a little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he acknowledges, both hands on his backpack’s straps as he shrugs, “I’m delegating.”

_ Delegating? _ Stiles closes his eyes for a minute, sighs audibly. There’s no way out of this. 

But, you know what, whatever. 

Scott is kind of right, and he can take care of himself. He’ll be fine. This will be fine. Still he looks at Scott with a dirty look and finds Scott’s mouth stretched in a close mouthed idiotic smile.  _ Delegating… _

“I fucking hate that stupid app of yours sometimes.”

 

 

With a grimace colouring his whole face, Stiles looks the house up and down, as soon as they stop by the curb.  _ Who the hell owns this kind of place in this goddamn economy?  _

He has no idea whose house this is, or if he knows them in the first place, considering the fact that he hasn’t seen half the Devenford Prep team without their helmets off, but whoever it is, seems like the type of rich kid to throw parties every time mom and dad are out of town; the muffled music coming from inside, the abandoned red solo cups in the driveway and general commotion he hears in the backyard make him feel like he’s being dragged into a fucking cliché. Terrible,  _ horrible  _ idea. 

Scott probably knows exactly what’s going through his head, if the encouraging hand on his shoulder and that stupid dumb close mouthed smile is anything to go by. Stiles starts walking anyway, lip curled in a downright disgusted face as he’s made to walk across the path to the open front door.

He’s got nothing against parties, okay, it’s just this one that has every single fucking ingredient to go wrong for Stiles. He can’t help but look around the second they start navigating the hall towards the gigantic living room with the access to the backyard. Most of the faces he doesn’t really recognise, after all this is mainly Devenford Prep people, but then Brett Talbot shows up, big lazy smile on his lips and his general laid back but also kinda cocky aura ever present. 

“Hey, glad you guys made it,” he says holding his hand to Scott who takes it in a casual handshake with a smile.

“Hi, yeah! Thanks for the invite!”, Scott answers just as Brett nods in that ‘ _ no problem’ _ way before turning to Stiles with his hand outstretched. 

“Stiles,” he says, his smile widening a little bit and Stiles is momentarily distracted looking past Brett’s shoulder, still searching, and doesn’t answer right away. Scott kinda nudges him to get his attention back. It works. Stiles focuses back on Brett.

“Uh, ye- yeah, thanks for inviting us,” he stutters, taking Brett’s hand as well, collecting himself.

“Sure, man, I really want our teams to get along, you know?” Brett explains, his chin high, looking at them with slightly hooded eyes that are the main element to his relaxed posture. He looks at Scott knowingly then, “we’ve already got enough problems out there, we don’t need stupid high school rivalries getting in the way, also.” 

Yes, the supernatural shenanigans. At least things have been quiet for a while.

Brett takes a deep breath, raises his eyebrows and claps once as if physically cutting that subject short, “anyway,” he says, cheerfully, “this is a party, we have alcohol” he leans closer “- and some other stuff, Scott,” Brett adds, in a lower voice to then continue, “let’s go to the kitchen and find something to drink.”

Stiles isn’t planning on drinking - Lydia did offer to pick them up if needed at the end (as in, if he was too drunk and embarrassed to call his dad), but still he wants to be sharp, obviously. However Brett just shoves a cup into his hands and brings his attention back to them. It really isn’t his intention to constantly be looking around but it’s inevitable until he spots Theo and is able keep track of him and keep his distance. Not knowing where he is is putting him on edge - he can’t avoid him, if he doesn’t know where he’s at.

“Are you looking for someone?” Brett asks, turning his head to the side as he eyes him with a tiny curious smile on the corner of his lips. Stiles opens his mouth to answer and moves it around soundlessly, eyebrows raised the moment it takes his brain to come up with an answer.

“Liam,” he replies. Right, that’s a good enough answer.

“Oh, Liam!” Scott exclaims, reaching for his phone with the hand that isn’t holding the altered cup of beer. Stiles is guessing it’s probably mixed with some tiny amount of wolfsbane. “He said to text him when we got here, I forgot.”

“Just call him,” Stiles suggests, turning to let his butt lean back against the kitchen counter. It’s a fairly big kitchen (to match the rest of the house) and there’s bottles of just about everything all over the counters and kitchen island in the middle. There’s some dude mixing drinks by it, people talking around him, and two girls raiding a bag full of various types of snacks, reaching for a bowl to probably take back to the living room; none of them is Theo.

“I’m gonna go outside, “ Scott informs them, already taking the phone to his ear and Stiles nods. He follows Scott with his gaze, taking a look at the people passing by in the corridor.

God, this is fucking ridiculous, he seriously needs to chill the fuck out. So he takes the cup to his mouth and downs it in one go, with Brett’s raised eyebrows and impressed look watching him.

“Alright, okay,” Brett drags, nodding, a laugh escaping him, “I take it you’re not driving, then.”

Stiles just shakes his head multiple times making a face at that initial bitter taste of beer and lets Brett take the cup from him to refill it, “Lydia’s picking me up,” he explains, accepting the cup once again. Brett nods, leans against the counter by Stiles’ side.

“The redhead,” Brett says as if situating himself, “beautiful girl,” he adds. Stiles frowns a little looking over at Brett. He’s already looking back at him, again that laid back attitude and lazy smile.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Stiles scoffs with a smile.

“No,” he drawls, rolling his eyes. Although yeah, he had wanted her to be for the longest time. But you know, their relationship matured, and friendship makes a hell of a lot more sense. 

Brett nods, pursing his lips through his smile and taking the cup up to his mouth, “good,” he mutters into the cup just before drinking.

Stiles pulls a face.  _ Good? _ Lord, was Brett after Lydia now? What was it with the Devenford dudes wanting to get into the pants of people at his school these days? 

“Come on, lets go where the party is,” Brett says, hand on Stiles’ back to get him to move. 

Stiles frowns a little. Sure, a party made a lot of sense then, guess the goal wasn’t just to end the rivalry between teams. This wasn’t a great strategy though, Stiles thinks, they should’ve invited girls from Beacon Hills. Well, unless the plan was to win over the dudes first, make friends to then be easier to get the girls. Kinda smart when looked at that way, really.

As he’s walking around the people by the kitchen island he slows down and feels Brett’s hand resting on his side just below his ribs from where he’s walking slightly behind him. He uses it to stir Stiles around and out of the kitchen. And then, as they walk towards to living room, he doesn’t take it off.

_ Uhm _ .

Scott’s words resonate in his mind for a second  _ “It’s just that Brett seems to like you-” _ . But. No. 

Right? What does Scott know, he’s completely clueless to these things anyway. But then, with a flush reaching his cheeks and he feel of that hand getting heavier, someone else’s words come to mind  _ “I think he said that because he’s a little into you.”  _

“Oh my god,” he mutters under his breath as they reach the living room and the music coming from outside floods the room filled with people talking and dancing (and making out) in the darkish atmosphere. He’s definitely thankful for the poor lighting because he’s absolutely sure he’s red in the face. Stiles isn’t even sure what’s making him more flustered - entertaining the idea of Brett Talbot being interested in him enough to  _ hit on him _ … or the memories that come rushing back with the words echoing in his head.

He’s barely aware of them sitting in the sofa, suddenly looking around once more on instinct. He takes a drink, and his attention is brought back to Brett, when he notices how close the other boy is sitting.  _ Oh my god, _ indeed. He doesn’t know what to do with this information. He doesn’t know  _ what he wants _ to do with this information either. Where the hell is Scott?

“You know, I didn’t know many of the guys from your team, but so far everyone seems pretty chill,” he says looking around. Stiles does too. There’s a bunch of guys from Beacon Hills all over the house already. “But, of course, Dunbar hasn’t gotten here yet so I might be speaking too soon,” Brett finishes, throwing a wide, amused smile at Stiles who scoffs.

“Liam’s a good kid,” Stiles tells him, and he means it. He takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, he’s just got a short temper, right?” Brett laughs, turning on the sofa to sit more casually, half facing Stiles, leg crossed and arm outstretched over the back of the sofa as he also takes a sip of his drink.

“When you keep provoking him, yeah,” Stiles answers matter-of-factly, looking back at Brett. Brett’s lip stretch over a smile, he lowers his chin and raises his eyebrows.

“Are you calling me a tease?” 

Oh wow, okay, he’s definitely not imagining this, then. 

Stiles laughs nervously. He looks down at his cup, shaking his head, “that’s not even remotely close to what I just said, dude” or implied as a matter of fact. He looks at Brett again trying to convey amusement himself. 

And his eyes get stuck in the corner of the room, where Theo sits wearing a light gray hoodie that contrasts against the general darkness of the room. He’s leaning back in the chair, relaxed as he stares right at Stiles with that trademark little smirk of his. 

Stiles’ heart leaps in his chest. There’s two guys around - one even casually sitting on the arm of the chair; teammates that seem to be too absorbed in whatever they’re talking about that they don’t seem to notice Theo isn’t paying attention to them anymore. Stiles wonders for how long that’s happening. Theo looks almost entertained looking over at Stiles and Brett and Stiles feels his cheeks heating up once again.

“I am, though,” it’s Brett’s voice suddenly a lot closer than originally that brings his attention back. The other boy is leaning a little into Stiles, the arm on the back of the sofa bent to support his head. Stiles blanks for a moment.

“What?” he asks, a little lost. His eyes flick over to Theo that moves on the chair, rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, chin down just looking at Stiles with this amused little smile playing on his lips. The snapback that he wears backwards today only fuels that fucking asshole aura and Stiles hates how he feels the urge to bring a hand up to cover his face. What the fuck!

“A tease,” Brett explains in a light voice, and Stiles swallows looking at him. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Stiles can’t focus. His mouth opens to reply to Brett and he has to physically keep himself from looking back at Theo. “Right,” Stiles manages to answer, “I’m not so sure that’s a good thing, though.” He takes his cup up to his mouth to drink, leg bouncing up and down.

“It’s not bad either,” Brett tells him with a raised eyebrow - suggestive. “As long as you end up,” he pauses to think of the word he wants, switches his drink over to the hand over the sofa and places his free one on Stiles’ bouncing knee to stop him, “delivering,” he settles with a smile.

Stiles can’t breathe. How the hell did he end up here? And where the fuck is Scott!

He looks down at that hand that doesn’t move away, and he can’t help the look he throws Theo’s way. Theo who’s looking, smile in place and narrowed eyes, lifts his eyebrows at him and a quick pointed look at Brett’s hand daring him  _ ‘what are you gonna do about that, Stiles?’ _

For the second time, Stiles downs the rest of his drink in one go, the bitter taste not bothering him that much before focusing on Brett with a little, almost sarcastic smile taking place.

“Is that what you’re gonna do with Liam?” he asks Brett, “ending up ‘’delivering’’?” the emphasis he puts on the word only making it sound more like he’s messing with Brett. Which he is. Because he needs to pull himself together. Because he can take care of himself and will not be overwhelmed by fuck boy tactics. Fuck that.

Brett stays silent looking at him with the smile on his face growing. He bites his lower lip and looks around clearly thrown off by that, but still into it. He does remove his hand though and Stiles breathes out and looks at Theo once again. 

He continues looking at Stiles even as he stands up and moves through the living room. For a moment Stiles is sure he’s going to come over, and he panics for a second, but he just walks around the sofas and disappears from Stiles’ field of vision. He shakes his empty cup right as Scott appears, with Liam and Mason both following.

“Hey, sorry, they got lost,” Scott explains, and Liam makes a face. 

“Hey guys,” Brett greets dragging the words and smiling.

“Hi Brett!” Mason says at the same time as Liam’s half assed “Hi,” Liam turns around at his best friend’s eagerness frowning before turning back to add, “Brett.” Yes, Mason’s huge crush on Brett is probably why he convinced Liam to take him along even though he’s not on the team. 

“Nice of you to come,” Brett adds just as Scott sits down on the sofa. Brett straightens up, looking over at Scott, “oh no, dude, don’t get comfortable let’s go outside and mingle.” He says.

“And dance,” Mason butts in, to which Liam sighs, and it earns him a Brett smile and agreeing nod.

“Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to everyone properly,” Brett says getting up and moving to the open balcony glass door that gives access to the huge backyard with the poolside where the party really is booming. 

Stiles stands up as well, “I’m gonna go refill and I’ll join you in a second,” he tells them. Brett eyes him for a second before he says “okay,” and Stiles is off to find the kitchen.

Without thinking too much about it, he fills his red solo cup again and chugs it down. Fuck staying sharp, he’s gonna need all the help he can get to manage to survive tonight. Maybe he should just grab every bottle and drink everything he could and blackout and just not deal with anything. Yeah.

He takes a few deep breaths. It’s gonna be fine. Theo knows better than to just walk up to him out of the blue, Stiles explained to him he didn’t want people to know, he trusts the guy is reasonable enough to do what he asked. Right? Yeah. 

And Brett… Stiles just needed to stay out of his orbit, soon enough he’d be wasted enough to find someone else and be entertained for the night. He hopes. He just… he doesn’t need that kind of mess, and especially not this out in the open where everyone can see and comment and judge. Not that he cares what people think either - he just doesn’t want any confusions and dramas because he’s fucking  _ tired _ of life as it is, thank you very much. 

Last thing he needs is this reaching Malia’s ears for example. The thing between them was weird, Stiles rolled with it for too long before he realized Malia still needed to grasp certain  _ societal manners _ before being with another person - especially if it was supposed to be casual. It’s tricky for people who have been human their whole life, imagine for a girl who’s been a coyote for most of hers.  _ And  _ it ended weird as well, although they are making a very valid effort to be friends and succeeding at it, thank you very much.

Don’t wanna fuck that up, either.

Just stick to Scott. If he sticks to Scott he’ll probably be fine. 

On the walk back to the backyard, he stops a few times to greet some of the guys from the team in a quick handshake and Devenford people they’re talking to as well, but doesn’t linger too long. He finds Scott by one of the tables where people are playing beer pong. 

“This isn’t too bad, right?” Scott comments, lifting his cup to a dude on the other side of the pool that’s waving at him. Stiles lets out a deep audible breath that gets half muffled by the music.

“I guess,” he answers. He spots Theo by the balcony door talking to a group of people as he leans his shoulder on the door frame, and Stiles allows himself to stare when he sees Theo isn’t looking back.

It really is unfair how good looking that motherfucker is, Stiles thinks. It really is unfair how it almost makes him forget that whole talk about not wanting people to see and comment, how in his head he kinda wants to go and be all over Theo and make everyone around ridiculously jealous they aren’t Stiles, and woah - okay, stop.

“This beer mix that Brett got is weird as hell,” Scott tells him, conversationally, “kinda tastes a bit like tea,” Stiles pulls a face, repeats “Like tea?” a little distracted, conveying how odd that is but Scott continues uninterrupted, “but it kinda works as well?” 

Stiles turns to look at him, “careful with that, at least one of us should be sober enough to call Lydia,” he jokes. Scott laughs. “Oh, you’re drinking as well” he smiles at Stiles, kinda teasing him.

“You dragged me here against my will, least you can do is let me drink in peace,” Stiles informs him with a shrug. 

“Fair enough,” Scott allows, before he drinks from his cup, “let me know when you’ve drunk enough of that to come dance,” he says, as he makes to walk towards the loud speakers where most of the dancing people is.

“Never, that’s when” Stiles shouts over the music, “never!”

“Oh really?” It’s Brett, talking right next to to his ear. Stiles jumps. Damned werewolves and their super hearing. Brett laughs, “that’s a damn shame, you don’t dance?”

Stiles shakes his head and kinda takes a step to the side to put a little more distance between them. He certainly does not need to be that close to hear and be heard. Brett’s eyes are already a bit hazy when Stiles looks up at him, and yeah, that weird beer and wolfsbane tea must really be working for the wolves, then.

“Have you seen me play lacrosse at all, I’m terrible,” Stiles tells him, with raised eyebrows, “what makes you think I’m any better at dancing?” 

Brett shrugs, gives him this close mouthed smile and takes a step closer to Stiles. “You’re not  _ terrible _ at lacrosse, perhaps you just need a teacher,” he’s dragging his words a little. Stiles steals a look over at the balcony door, where Theo was standing talking to some people.

It’s like he guesses. Theo’s looking at them; still that slightly amused look on his face, like he can’t wait to see what Stiles is going to do about the situation, still that intense undertone like he’s daring him to entertain Brett. What kind of game is this?

Locking his gaze with Theo’s, Stiles realises there’s maybe another completely different reason why he doesn’t want Brett to be hitting on him.

“Yeah, Scott and I tried that, progress wasn’t much, to be fair,” he tells Brett, trying to stir the conversation away from any sort of suggestive topics, making himself busy with drinking. Brett moves, his hand comes to rest lightly on Stiles’ wrist moving the cup away from his face and immediately Stiles is hyper aware of his every move, the sensation that Brett was going to try something dumb sending alarm bells off in his brain.

“A different teacher then?” Brett suggests, smiling. Stiles can’t help frown a little at him and when Brett shifts his weight on his feet, he steals a quick glance at Theo again. This time, the other boy’s smirk is gone, narrow eyes looking back and shoulders suddenly looking straighter - tense. “Different motivation?” Brett adds in a lower voice and Stiles isn’t even following what the hell he’s saying anymore. All he sees is Brett’s eyes falling to his lips for a second and the beginning of the movement to lean in.

His body acts on instinct, switching the cup from the hand Brett’s holding to the free one, turns his head away and he downs his drink in one go, effectively moving away and stopping Brett in his tracks.

“I’m, uh-, “ Stiles stutters, when he sees a smile growing on Brett’s mouth - not annoyed, not fed up, just entertained. Stiles really needs to get out of here, “I need to go to the bathroom, excuse me.” He says, not giving Brett a second before he darts off to the house.

Theo isn’t by the balcony door anymore. 

He doesn’t even have the proper time to think about that too much. All that he knows is that his vision is just a little blurred at the edges from all those fast drinks (and very little tolerance to alcohol - it’s not like he drinks a lot, with the meds he used to take), and he really needs to find a quiet-ish place to think. This is not the hardship he thought this night was going to bring his way to be completely honest. He was most definitely not prepared for this.

Someone tells him the nearest other bathroom is upstairs when he finds it occupied and he thanks and climbs the steps of the stairs in auto-pilot. When he finds it, he swings the door to shut it, and moves to the sink. It's only then he realises he didn't even turn the light on and with a curse flicks the switch on top of the mirror to turn the mirror lights there on instead. He turns the tap on and puts his hands under the stream to take some of the cold water to his face.

_ Fucking hell. _

Stiles takes the towel to dry his face off, staring at himself in the mirror, taking a few deep breaths to make his brain slow down and think of some way to deal with this and manage the rest of the night with no incidents.

Movement to his right, where the door is, catches his attention and he turns his head. Theo is closing the door behind his back slowly, facing Stiles straight on, arms behind his back pushing the door until it clicks. His fingers move to the key and he turns it, leaving it on its place.

“What are you doing?” is the first thing Stiles thinks to ask, and his voice comes out a little rough. Theo smirks, leans back against the door casually.

“Hi,” he says, lifting his eyebrows, giving him this look that calls Stiles rude for not even properly greeting him. God,  _ fuck _ , of course he followed him to the bathroom. “Theo,” he sighs, closing his eyes in annoyance, “are you insane?”

Theo lets his head fall back against the door as well, biting the smile off his lips, “I missed you,” he says in this sultry voice, and it’s like he’s not hearing a word Stiles is saying. Stiles feels himself flush and he really, really can’t believe this guy. How does he just follow him into the bathroom, there’s a million people in here, someone ought to see. 

“Fuck,” Stiles curses, brings his hands to his head, rubs at his temples and steps away from the sink to turn to Theo, “You can’t just follow me into the bathroom! People will notice, Raeken,” he tells him, a little unsettled. Why is everyone so set on making his life extra hard tonight? 

“I really don’t care,  _ Stilinski _ ,” Theo answers back with the same bite Stiles put into his words, finally moving away from the door. He moves slowly, stepping closer to Stiles. “Am I making you stress?” The way Theo lowers his gaze and keeps that smirk on his face makes Stiles feel almost like he’s being hunted.  _ Shit. _

“ _ I _ do care,” Stiles tells him, ignoring the second part, deflating a little and staring at the floor instead. This whole premise, this whole thing is a recipe for trouble. 

There’s a part of him that knows he keeps dodging Theo because how much his whole persona, the way he just  _ is,  _ attracts him - he likes it. Try as Stiles might to ignore it, and pretend it’s only a matter of not wanting this kind of drama in his life, he knows the pull he feels towards Theo has the potential to turn into something else. When Stiles likes someone, he likes them with everything he’s got - it ends bad more times than it ends well. And with someone like Theo how the hell could it ever end well? Deep down Stiles is reflexively trying to protect himself and cut this off right from the start.

“Why?,” Theo presses, as he keeps walking closer to Stiles. He looks at Stiles and then focuses on the sink, his fingers reaching to touch the ceramic. “Why do you care so much? Are you worried people will see?” he asks, standing in front of the mirror as he talks, casually looking at himself, fixing his snapback. Behind him, Stiles just stares at how relaxed he moves. 

Theo’s eyes catch Stiles’ through the mirror. “Or just one particular someone?” He turns around, clearly pleased with himself if that smirk is anything to go by, hands on the sink by his side as he leans back against it.

“What?” Stiles’ voice actually falters at that, if the blush reaching his cheeks wasn’t enough. Theo loves it, Stiles knows, and curses his whole body and its reactions. 

“Poor Brett has no idea he doesn’t stand a chance, has he?” Theo continues, breaking into a smug grin. Heat breaks right at Stiles’ gut - fuck his damn confidence and fuck all the things this arrogance makes Stiles feel. His breathing gets a little worked up. 

“Neither do you,” Stiles fires automatically wanting to take a jab at that cockiness, bring him down a notch. He raises his chin staring him in the eyes and Theo’s smile only gets more predatory, “I’m leaving.” Stiles finishes. Theo crosses his arms, still as relaxed as ever.

“Go ahead,” Theo encourages, that daring look on his eyes again, actually pissing Stiles off a little. Maybe he was bluffing just now, but that stupid fucking look on his face makes him actually want to leave just to teach him a lesson. “Key’s in the door,” Theo adds.

They stand there in a stare off for a few seconds and no one moves. 

But Stiles is a stubborn proud asshole and he breaks eye contact, bites his lip and nods, “Okay,” he says, takes a deep breath and stands up straighter, making a move to the door with Theo’s eyes following him. He’s reaching out to touch the key and his heart is thumping in his ears.

“Stiles,” Theo calls softly, and Stiles almost holds his breath. He doesn’t turn around, though, just stands there and waits. “I missed you,” Theo repeats, in such a soft silky voice Stiles has trouble connecting it to that confident, smirking,  _ beautiful  _ fucking face of his. He closes his eyes, scrunches up his face in an expression that showcases exactly the frustration going on inside. Because despite the softness he can still hear the teasing undertone. He has no idea how he does it, but Theo knows exactly what he’s doing and Stiles should fucking know better but.

It’s working. It’s bringing back memories and it’s making Stiles want it again. Fuck, he wants it so much it’s an actual physical pain in this stomach. He exhales audibly, closes his hand in a fist, “Oh, fuck you,” he whispers in a defeated tone, “fuck you _ so much _ .” before turning around.

Theo meets him halfway. One hand slides across Stiles’ ribs and the other comes up to his jaw. Their lips crash together at the same time Theo manages to wrap his arm around Stiles and firmly pulls him sharply against himself. Stiles is moaning a complaint against Theo’s mouth before he properly kisses him, arms around his neck.

Stiles barely registers what his body is doing, all he can focus on is on those lips moving against his, on the way Theo’s tongue pushes inside, tastes him, comes back and presses his mouth so firmly against Stiles’, that he can’t breathe. He feels himself being guided back, though, feels his back hitting the door and breaks the kiss in a moan.

“I can’t believe he actually tried to kiss you,” Theo breathes against Stiles’ red mouth. Stiles blinks a couple times, trying to get his brain to start working again and make sense of Theo’s words. It’s so hard, with the way those hands travel all over his torso, causing goosebumps everywhere he touches. He pulls Stiles closer to himself, territorial, and that doesn’t help his brain work in the slightest. It’s hot all over.

“What are you even talking about,” Stiles gasps back. He knows, of course he does, but for very stupid ego-boosting related reasons, he wants to hear Theo say it. Sue him. Theo moves to kiss his neck, Stiles feels the laugh ghosting against his skin and his hips move forward to find Theo’s on reflex. 

“I’m talking about Talbot hoovering all over you,” he whispers, kissing up towards his jaw, until he finds his lips, pecks them a couple times with hooded eyes looking directly at Stiles. “I’m talking about how he’s so into you that he made a move in a party like this,” Theo’s hands drop to the hem of Stiles’ thin sweatshirt, pulling it up a little to push his hands underneath and touch Stiles’ skin. He smirks, “that’s so not Brett.” He grips his sides, digs his nails in a little as he laughs, “I mean, I can’t blame him. Look at you.”

He doesn’t give Stiles a single second before taking his mouth again, kissing him so hungrily and pulling back so fast that Stiles honest to god feels light headed and has trouble catching his breath, his hands gripping Theo’s shoulders. “But he was pushing it,” Theo continues, his eyes turning dark, the smirk turning almost venomous, “like a fucking idiot,” he adds in a whisper. That right there, it fucking does  _ things _ to Stiles. It messes with him in a way that he’s not exactly proud of.

Theo brings his hand to swipe his thumb across Stiles’ mouth, biting his own lip. He grabs Stiles’ chin, “as if.” Fuck, Stiles really cannot deal with this; this self confidence, this absolute certainty that he’s what Stiles wants. It almost makes him angry, if it didn’t turn him on much more. 

He pushes forward to kiss Theo once again, his hands gripping Theo’s hoodie and pulling him hard against himself. His brain is going a million miles per second and he can’t make sense of a single one of his thoughts. He’s hot all over and completely ignoring the still rational part of his mind telling him hooking up with Theo right here, right now might not be his greatest idea.

But then Theo groans against his lips and his hand drops to Stiles’ ass and grabs it, hoists Stiles up just a little and makes their crotches rub and  _ holy shit _ what was he thinking about again?

Theo breaks the kiss once again, looking at Stiles with such intensity it’s hard to hold his gaze, “He doesn’t stand a chance, Stiles,” he states, for the first time letting the jealousy show, holds Stiles close, possessively, looks at him demanding an answer even though he made no question. Stiles’ heart speeds up and god, this is so terrible, Theo is terrible and Stiles is nodding, has no idea what takes over him, as he melts in Theo’s hands, breathless  repeats “he doesn’t stand a chance”. 

And Theo smiles, devilishly, nuzzles his nose against Stiles’ and purrs, “that’s right, baby.”

Stiles groans. He absolutely hates what this is doing to him - he hates more the fact that he doesn’t really hate it; pretends to, out of pride. “I had to come here and remind you of that, before he did,” Theo explains. And Stiles frowns. 

“What?” Stiles breathes suddenly confused. Theo raises his eyebrows, puts a finger over his own mouth in a gesture for Stiles to be quiet. But really, what is he talking about? “Are you talking about Brett? Why would he-” Theo places his hand over Stiles’, shuts him up.

Stiles is just wrapping his hand around Theo’s wrist to take it off, with an indignant frown on his face when the door handle jiggles with someone trying to open the door. Theo throws him a pointed look, smirk growing in his face. There’s a knock.

“Stiles?” and it’s Brett.

Stiles’ heart jumps in his chest and suddenly a wave of panic starts crawling up his spine. With wide eyes he stares right back at Theo.  _ Fuck. _ Brett could hear both their heartbeats. Brett probably knew Theo well enough to place his scent. 

Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck! _

Theo just looks amused though, places his hands on each side of Stiles’ face and mouths  _ ‘calm down’  _ at him, not a sign of worry on his face. Does Theo know that Brett is a wolf, though? Probably not, if he’s this relaxed. Easy for him to stay calm.

“Stiles, you okay?” Brett asks again, and  _ Jesus, _ is he slurring his words. Theo looks at him pointedly ‘ _ answer him’. _

“I’m- I’m, yeah! I’ll be- uh,” He pauses, clears his throat, “I’ll be out in a minute, I’ll find you guys downstairs,” he finishes. 

“Oh,” Brett says. And he honest to god sounds disappointed. Theo catches it too and breaks into a grin, laughing silently, shaking his head. What, was he expecting Stiles to let him in or something? Stiles looks at Theo and the way he looks back at Stiles makes him realise that, yes, that’s probably exactly what he was waiting for. Jesus. “Okay, I’ll be downstairs.”

They wait for a second in silence just staring at each other. Shit, Brett knows. Brett  _ knows _ there’s no way he hasn’t figured it out, there’s no way he isn't going to question Scott about it. There’s no way Liam isn’t going to connect the pieces. There is no way Malia isn’t going to know because there’s no way he’s going to get out of this party with this  _ thing _ between him and Theo still a secret.

“Oh my god, I’m fucked,” Stiles lets out, pushing Theo off of him, starting to pace nervously, “There’s no way he didn’t just figure it out,” Stiles says more to himself than Theo. What’s he gonna do? If he went after Brett right now, he might still manage some damage control.

“Stiles, relax,” Theo tells him, turning to face him, adjusting the snapback on his head once again, “Not with that much wolfsbane in him, he didn’t.”

Stiles stops. Looks over at Theo, who’s looking back with a smirk, crossed arms just waiting for Stiles to figure it out. How he seemed to know Brett was coming. How he knows about the wolfsbane.  _ Oh my god. _ “You’re a fucking wolf, too.” Stiles says, head spinning suddenly. Theo bites his lower lip, flashes yellow eyes at Stiles in confirmation, smiling. 

“Perceptive as always, I see,” he comments, a little sarcasm colouring his voice. He’s Theo after all. “I’m half wolf, actually, but that’s a long story,” Theo corrects, reaches to grab Stiles’ hand and pull him towards himself, “I’ll tell you about it later,” he promises, makes to kiss him, but Stiles arches his back to dodge him.

“Wait, wait,” shit, what a mess. His brain is a mess. Theo is supernatural as well. He can’t think. His confusion and worry and overall freak out must be all over his face because Theo sighs, wraps his arms around Stiles’ middle, but doesn’t insist to pull him any closer.

“Stiles,” he calls, “it’s alright, stop thinking so much. You  _ are _ always this on edge, huh?” he jokes, repeating something the told Stiles the first time they were together. 

Stiles actually laughs at that, although the humour isn’t quite there. “Thinking too much is what I do best.” he says. Theo tugs at him just a little and Stiles lets himself step closer.

“No one saw me come after you,” Theo starts, looking directly into Stiles’ eyes, “and Brett is too wasted on his wolfsbane drink to use his supernatural abilities and figure out you weren’t alone,” he brings a hand to cup Stiles’ face, “No one knows, it’s okay.”

Okay… okay. Maybe it’s the confidence Theo emanates, his tone of voice or his touches, but Stiles does calm down a little. Enough to lean in and kiss him. Theo’s right, he’s being paranoid, Brett could barely put two sentences together, let alone pick scents or heartbeats in a house full of wasted teenagers. They’re fine, it’s fine.

As long as no one else needs to use the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles, shaking his head. He does realise he’s being an anxious mess of an idiot. Theo is staring at his mouth again, once again his thumb coming to touch his lips like he just can’t help himself. “No need for sorry,” Theo tells him patiently, “pretty sure there’s other things your mouth can do instead of apologising that I’ll be much more interested in,” he teases him, smirk all dirty, like an asshole. 

That hot twist in Stiles’ gut returns and he kisses Theo just as vigorously when the other boy pulls him for a kiss. Cause it’s either that, or punching him in that gorgeous asshole face of his.

Then he remembers something Theo told him last time  ‘ _ wish I could make good use of that ridiculous mouth of yours, _ ’ and a wild idea comes to Stiles’ mind and ignites that fire, sending it all over his veins, makes it a little hard to breathe.

_ ‘Was made for sucking dick, Stiles.’ _

A bravery that he doesn’t know where it comes from takes over him and he’s the one to push Theo up against the door this time. He stops and looks at him in the eye, feeling his heart go crazy in his ribcage.

He’s never done this.

Not giving up the eye contact, Stiles licks his lips, swallows and Theo stares, frowning just a little confused, waiting for whatever Stiles seems to be getting ready to do. Then, Stiles’ hand comes down to the top of Theo’s jeans and he stares right at him as he goes down to his knees.

Theo makes this sound, a hiss, a deep breath that gets caught in this throat as he catches on and he brings a hand to his face, “oh my  _ god, _ ” he half moans half groans, and fuck, Stiles feels himself get impossibly harder with that alone. He wants to do this so much, and he wants to be so  _ good _ at it, he feels he’s about to vibrate right out of his own skin.  _ Shit _ .

He brings his eyes down to Theo’s crotch, eyes those jean’s button like it’s about to change his life and feels just a little ridiculous when his fingers start unbuttoning it and he’s shaking a little.

Stiles takes deep breaths, trying to contain the raw energy he feels all over his body. He starts pulling Theo’s dark jeans down, tugs on the fabric over his thighs and freaks out just a little when the pants just seem to not move - fucking hell, he hasn’t even started and he’s already struggling. With wide eyes and pulled up eyebrows he looks up at Theo, kinda asking for help.

The other boy is looking down at him, hand still on his forehead over the backwards snapback and he huffs out a breathless laugh, throwing his head back, “ _ fuck _ , Stiles, if you’re gonna be looking up at me like that, this isn’t gonna last at all,” he whines, but moves, his hands coming down to help pulling his jeans down to his thighs, and Stiles has a very hard time grasping the concept that Theo  _ fucking _ Raeken is that hot and bothered because of him; that he could have this effect on someone. It fills him up with courage.

So he pulls Theo’s boxers down and blinks several times when he comes face to face with his dick. Which is quite hard and shiny and intimidating.

Fuck, this is overwhelming.

He looks up at Theo once again, and of course, he’s staring back at Stiles, hooded eyes and troubled breathing. Stiles licks his lips, isn’t really sure what he wants from Theo, what he’s waiting for but - lucky for him - the other boy seems to see something on his expression that enlightens him and he’s moving. Slowly, like he’s giving Stiles all the time in the world to stop him, Theo brings his hand down, gently traces his thumb over Stiles’ cheekbone and his hips move forward equally as slow. 

The tip of his cock brushes Stiles’ lips, encouraging him to take it and Stiles parts his lips further not breaking eye contact with Theo as he brings his tongue out and lets the head slide in.

Immediately the first thing he notices is a taste on his tongue, a metallic tang to it - he doesn’t think too much about it and swirls his tongue around and lets his hands rest on Theo’s thighs. He closes his lips around the head, relaxes a little and sits back on his legs. The angle allows him to look at Theo, whose eyes suddenly glow yellow at him and for some reason it sends a thrill down Stiles’ spine that he can’t explain. He starts sucking.

“ _ God,” _ Theo grunts, closes his eyes, “it’s actually unfair how much you’re turning me on right now,” he says, finishes with a laugh and a hand stretched out falling on the door handle and gripping it for support.

His words really do work in encouraging Stiles and he dares taking more of Theo into his mouth, feeling his lips stretch over it and feeling hot all over with how much Stiles actually  _ likes it _ . So he keeps sucking, brings his hands up to help, tries his best to keep his teeth out of the equation and gets absolutely dizzy with want with every sound that leaves Theo’s mouth. 

It’s these breathless grunts and words, it’s  _ ‘fuck, feels so good’,  _ and  _ ‘, I was right, your mouth was made for this,’  _ and ‘ _ go on, baby, keep sucking it, just like that’ _ and ‘ _ you’re gonna make me come so fast’  _ and a final  _ ‘you can take it all, Stiles, I know you can’  _ that has him holding his breath, and pushing against Theo, trying to take as much of his dick as he can in his mouth. It hits the back of Stiles’ throat and he chokes, pulls back coughing with tears in his eyes and shiny red lips.

He looks up at Theo, wants to see his reaction and  _ fuck _ Stiles has no idea where this craving for praise comes from but he wants it so bad - he wants Theo to tell him he’s doing great, that he’s making Theo feel so good, Stiles barely cares about catching his breath. Stiles works his hand over the length of Theo’s cock, brings it to rest on his chin as he shifts his weight on his knees.

Theo’s dark eyes look at him so intensely, Stiles actually whimpers - fuck, he looks at Stiles like Stiles is food and he’s starving. Stiles moves his face with an open mouth, smudging pre come all over his chin and Theo’s closed fist actually bangs against the door and the  _ growls,  _ “Oh my  _ fucking _ god”. Suddenly, Theo’s hand is on the back of Stiles’ head, fingers wrapping around his hair and pulling his face towards his crotch at the same the thrusts forward, pushing his dick down Stiles’ mouth, which just barely has the time to open further. It’s fucking  _ intoxicating _ and Stiles’ dick twitches in his lap and fuck, he closes his eyes, he’s burning up.

He holds Stiles there for a moment, before letting go, gasping, leaving Stiles coughing. “Shit,” Theo breathes, “I’m sorry.” But Stiles just shakes his head. Fuck, when did he start liking this kind of rough treatment? 

As soon as he catches his breath, he’s back to taking Theo’s dick to his mouth, starts really going for it, all inhibitions aside and a fire in his gut urging him to do anything he can to make Theo come.

“I fucking knew,” Theo starts, between moans, “I fucking knew that mouth would be one of the best things I’ve ever tried,” she praises, and  _ shit _ Stiles is lightheaded and it has nothing to do with the lack of air. He starts going harder, set on making Theo, who’s hips start rocking against him, finish.

It takes a few seconds and Theo is bringing his hands to Stiles’ hair in warning, “Stiles, I’m gonna- I’m so close-,” the way he trails off, incoherent, reduced to moans and erratic hip moments makes Stiles really put effort into it, giving it all he has. And then Theo tenses all over, his leg muscles spasm and he comes with a cry in Stiles’ mouth.

Once again, Stiles feels like he’s about to vibrate right out of his skin - fuck, he did it. He made Theo come and the thought alone makes him whimper around his dick, unable to let go, wanting to take it all in his mouth. In the back of his mind, there’s the regret of not having seen his face.  _ Next time _ .

Next time. Shit, he’s already thinking of a next time.

Theo is breathing hard, face angled up and the hands on Stiles’ hair moving slowly. Looking up at him, Stiles sits back on his knees, wiping part of the saliva on his chin, and swallows the come in his mouth, just as Theo is looking down on him. The other boy blinks. Stiles is quite mesmerised taking in the red cheeks and glazed eyes and fucked out expression. Damn it, how is it possible that this bastard looks even more stunning suddenly?

“Did you- did you just swallow?” Theo asks, voice a little rough as he pulls his jeans up, without buttoning them back up. Stiles frowns, looks at him unsure. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t answer verbally, just nods, apprehensive.

Theo closes his eyes, bites his lip in his afflicted expression like he can’t fucking deal with Stiles and murmurs, “ _ fuck _ , come here,” pulling Stiles up by his arms to make him stand up and finally kiss him again. Stiles feels his face still all wet, and there’s something incredibly hot and _ dirty  _ about Theo having no problem kissing him all hungrily, getting the mess all over his own face. Shit, it’s enough to have Stiles whimpering into the kiss and pushing his hips and his hard dick against Theo’s leg.

The other boy breaks the kiss and the look on his face is downright animalistic as his eyes roam Stiles’ face stopping on his mouth.

“God, you have no  _ fucking _ idea,” Theo growls and then spins Stiles around, hand around his waist bringing him back against Theo’s body as he takes the few steps that separate them from the sink, guiding and turning Stiles to the mirror, the position making him bend over just a little. Stiles’ hands come to grip the sink and he barely manages to breath out his stunned “what are you doing?” before Theo brings his left hand around to grab Stiles’ jaw and make him face the mirror. 

Stiles can barely breathe properly. It’s this rough handling,  _ fuck _ when did he start getting off on this?

“Look at that,” Theo orders, speaking right in his ear, holding his gaze through the mirror, “look at how fucked out you look.” Theo’s free hand comes around as well, slides down to his jeans and works on getting them unbuttoned. 

“Jesus, Stiles, do you see that mouth of yours?,” Theo continues, “do you see how good it looks right now, after taking my dick so nicely?” He purrs, setting Stiles’ brain ablaze and his knees tremble just a little when Theo’s hand finally reaches his dick and starts working it. Theo starts moving fast and the relief makes Stiles cry out a high pitched ‘ _ oh my god’ _ and his eyes roll back.

That’s when the hand on Stiles’ face squeezes just a little, shake his head, “Focus, Stiles,” Theo calls, and Stiles looks back at himself in the mirror. Shit, this guy and his kinks and how it  _ apparently _ fucking lines up with Stiles’ perfectly, what is this!

“Fuck,  _ Theo _ , I…,” Stiles trails off, has no idea what he was going to say in the first place, his eyebrows coming up on his forehead in a pleading expression that shows Theo exactly how much he’s liking this.

“Oh, baby, I wish I could show you off right now,” Theo coos, bites his earlobe and it sends shivers down his spine, to meet the absolute raging fire going on on his lower abdomen, only fuelled further by Theo’s words.

“I was right,” Stiles manages to answer somehow, biting his lip, “you fucking exhibitionist.”

Theo laughs at that a little short of breath, smirks at Stiles through the mirror and carries on, “I wish Brett could see you right now, with me all over you,” and he brings his fingers up to smudge the remaining mess on Stiles’ face all over his lips again. It shouldn’t make his dick twitch the way it does. “ _ Fuck _ ,” Stiles cries out, “I actually fucking hate you,” Stiles whines and there’s no heat in his words.

“Would you look this pretty with me  _ inside _ you?” Theo continues, that cockyness making a come back and Stiles’ legs spasm, he feels his whole body contort in Theo’s arms and he moans Theo’s name like he’s begging him for something. “I bet you’d look beautiful, I can practically see the red cheeks, the red mouth, and you naked - shit, Stiles, I have to find out now, don’t I?” Theo closes his eyes for a moment, like the image in his head is too much; Stiles’ stomach twists all over and he’s so close, he’s so very close his heart might just beat right out of his chest.

“I know you’re close, Stiles, just let go, come on,” Theo breathes. It takes a few more pumps and Stiles is coming all over Theo’s hand and the sink, calling Theo’s name repeatedly, hand gripping Theo’s arm.

There’s honest to god tears in his eyes when he opens them and faces himself in the mirror. They stay like that for a few seconds and Stiles actually feels his cheeks heat up the longer he stares at the image they make. He kinda wants to cover his own face in something that resembles shame because wow,  _ what the actual fuck _ is he into, and where did it come from? 

This is why Theo is trouble. This is  _ exactly _ why Theo is trouble, it’s like he brings out the worst in him; and the worst part of it is how Stiles doesn’t mind at all. “ _ There’s a little sex devil in you, Stiles” _ he had told Stiles. Fucking bastard might just be right.

Theo shakes his head with a grin growing on his lips, “damn,” he curses, before using the hand on Stiles’ face to turn his head and kiss his lips over his shoulder.

The other one turns the tap on to wash the mess they made.

Stiles’ brain is mud. Absolute mud incapable of coherent thoughts at this point. He keeps trying to regain his breath, even as Theo steps around him, to wash his hands and the sink. He looks at Stiles, drying his hands off.

“Okay?” he asks softly, and Stiles really has a hard fucking time dealing with this back and forward that Theo does between being the biggest, most arrogant asshole he knows and such a considerate… well. Fuck buddy? He nods as he says “yeah,” still a bit out of it. Theo raises his eyebrow at him, complete with the smirk as he buttons his jeans and then moves to do the same for Stiles. “Did I fuck you so good you temporarily lost your motor skills?” Theo teases him, and  _ god _ Stiles wants to smack him.

“You didn’t fuck me,” is what he comes up with instead. He moves to wash his face, just to prove Theo wrong. The other boy wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist from behind as Stiles is drying his face and he looks through the mirror at him. Theo kisses his shoulder.

“Third time’s the charm,” he whispers and winks at Stiles. His mouth falls open just a little. Is that a promise?  _ Shit, _ Stiles actually feels his heart jump at the anticipation that fills him and fucking hates it when he remembers Theo can probably pick it up. He turns in Theo’s arms and wants to protest, but there’s nothing really that comes to mind. It’s not like he doesn’t want it as well.

“Wow, you’re really convinced  _ that’s  _ gonna happen,” Stiles replies anyway, raised eyebrows and an exaggerated impressed tone to his voice that conveys the jab Stiles is going for. He needs to pull himself together, okay, he needs to not let Theo know the full effect he’s having on Stiles, his ego most definitely doesn’t need it. Theo does not need the added confidence. Theo bites his own lip, pulls Stiles closer to him, and Stiles arches his back to keep the distance.

“It’s gonna happen,” Theo presses, smile wanting to break through. Stiles scrunches his face up, pretends to think and pushes Theo’s arms to get free.

“Yeah…,” he drawls and shakes his head, with a fake little smile on his face as he starts walking back towards the door. Theo throws him a dirty look and laughs.

“Stiles,” he says in a warning tone. 

“I’m leaving,” Stiles tells him eyebrows raised in an amused expression, leaving Theo squinting at him, before scoffing and fixing his snapback as Stiles turns around, unlocks the door and opens it. He takes a look out into the hall. Some of the room’s doors are open and there’s people talking inside, but none can see him as he leaves the bathroom and closes the door.

He looks up in the direction of the stairs after looking around once more and comes face to face with Liam just turning the corner. His stomach drops cold to his feet.

Fuck, man, again?! This kid’s timing is fucking ridiculous!

“Oh, Stiles! Is that the bathroom?” he says, swirling the drink on his solo red cup as he approaches. Stiles takes a second to force his brain to work.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking his hand off the handle, and wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. 

“Nice,” Liam comments, and Stiles realises he’s making a move towards it and “it’s occupied, though,” Stiles shoots, stepping slightly in front of it, on Liam’s way. “The door is… locked.” He says, and hopes Theo is getting the message. He also really hopes Liam has been drinking the wolfsbane tea.

Liam frowns, extremely confused, “didn’t you step out of it, I just saw you.” Stiles pulls a face back,  _ pffs  _ at Liam, “No, Liam. Jesus, what are they putting on your drink?” And he walks off as a disoriented Liam is left in the middle of the hallway, staring suspiciously at his own drink.

Stiles finds Scott to tell him he’s calling Lydia.

“Already?” Scott whines and by his side, Mason pipes up.

“You can come with Liam and I if you don’t wanna go just yet,” he suggests to a Scott that lights ups.

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” he says, and Stiles just nods with a wave, telling them to have fun as he pulls his phone.

He waits for her outside by the curb and his cheeks keep heating up when he thinks about what just happened. Fuck. At a house party. In a bathroom. The fucking class. Where to next, some cell at the sheriff’s station? 

A wild heat makes his stomach twist at that - Jesus Christ, what is this dude doing to him?

When Lydia pulls over and he gets in, it takes an impressive total of ten seconds of staring at a squirming Stiles, squinting at him, for Lydia to finally go, “we need to talk,” and the ‘ _ don’t we?  _ is implied. She knows him too well.  And Stiles huffs out a breath, looks at her for another three seconds. “Yeah, we need to talk,” he replies, “tomorrow, though?” he adds, almost pleading. It’s only now that he’s sitting that he realises how sore his muscles are and how tired he actually feels, now that the adrenaline is gone. He needs time to recover from tonight.

Lydia eyes him suspiciously with just the hint of an amused smile fighting to reach her face, and not saying anything and starting the car is her way of telling him that, tonight, he’s off the hook. 

Only tonight, though. Stiles knows the girl, he has no illusions. 

 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr](https://whereshiphappens.tumblr.com/)


End file.
